


Pavlovian

by CGotAnAccount



Series: ADVENTure Is Out There! [19]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, SHEITH - Freeform, Shiro (Voltron) Has a Large Cock, inappropriate attire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:47:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21857053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CGotAnAccount/pseuds/CGotAnAccount
Summary: “Shiro.” He pushes himself free from his favorite pillows to stare down at his husband's chosen attire. “You're not wearing those all day, are you?”“Why not?” Shiro pouts, reaching down to pluck at the satin clinging obscenely to his thick thigh. “I think they're cute... and festive!”
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: ADVENTure Is Out There! [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558660
Comments: 18
Kudos: 157





	Pavlovian

**Author's Note:**

> Day 19! Inspired by Kika <3

Keith strolls out of the bathroom with about two hours to spare before their friends arrive, still trying to dry the dripping ends of his hair as the steam curls around him. Shiro's been ready for at least an hour of course, and wouldn't stop nagging until Keith agreed to wash off the two days of vacation sex funk that he'd been greatly enjoying.

It's cold in the bedroom, Shiro had apparently thrown the windows open to the snowy sky in an effort to air out the den of debauchery, and it makes Keith wrinkle his nose just a bit as he steps across the chilly floor to the bed. A neat pile of clothes sits folded there, courtesy of his favorite golden boy, and they're festive to a fault. Somehow Shiro had found a pair of oldschool plaid flannel pajama bottoms and a sweater with tiny dogs that look just like Kosmo wearing Santa hats – it must have been custom made. He slips them on with a smile, more comfortable than he can remember being in a long time, and shuffles over to slide on the white bunny slippers Shiro had set beside the door.

He loves this ridiculous man.

Shiro always had been the one to get more excited about Christmas between the two of them – growing up mostly alone had always kind of put a damper on it for Keith – but now that he's got this new little family and his mom back he can appreciate Shiro's enthusiasm. Their tree cutting excursion had gone about as well as could be expected, given their track record. Needless (and needle-less) to say the one they put up last night was delightfully artificial. Of course his ridiculous husband may have pouted about it for a good hour while nursing a sore back and some slivers, but Keith knows what really matters is the time they spend together around it.

No matter what Shiro says about authentic smells.

Shuffling out into the hallway brings much better scents than pine anyway, leading Keith by his nose to the kitchen where he can hear something sizzling merrily in a pan.

“Mmm, that smells amazing, Shiro.” Keith sighs, sliding onto a stool at the kitchen island to watch his husband poke at the stove in his frilly lion apron. “What is it?”

“Some sort of hash,” Shiro chirps, utterly pleased with himself after learning how to cook the essentials without burning the house down. “I'm not really sure what's in it, but it does smell good, doesn't it?”

He twists over to the coffee pot and pours Keith a mug, adding just a splash of cream and sugar before plunking it in front of him. Keith squints up at him, craning his neck up for a thank-you kiss as he accepts the offering.

“What do you mean you don't know what's in it, didn't you make it?”

Shiro shrugs, pecking the top of his head before turning back to the stove to poke at the pan.

“I put some potatoes, some scrambled eggs... a little bit of pepper and onion?” His brow wrinkles in thought as he peers down at the concoction. “And then there was that stuff in the container from Hunk, it might've been stuffing, or not. I'm not really sure.”

He smiles back up at Keith, a mischievous little thing that always appears when he's doing something not exactly regulation. It makes Keith feel far too soft for this early on a Saturday morning. Another sip of his coffee hides Keith's pinking cheeks, still susceptible to Shiro's sheer level of cuteness years after it first bowled through his defenses.

“Well,” Keith grumbles, trying to suppress the sappy smile threatening to uncover his clenching heart. “Whatever you did it smells delicious, and the coffee is great too.”

“Aww, baby!” Shiro clicks off the stove and sets the pan on the other burner, double checking it because he's a boy scout. Then he unties the apron and pulls it over his head, tossing it on the island before rounding the edge to pull Keith into a hug, shirtless and-

“ _Shiro_ ,” Keith croaks, eyes bulging moments before being blissfully smothered in bare pecs.

“Hmm?” Shiro hums into his hair and he can feel the smile as they sway side to side, rocked by those thick arms. “Yes sweetheart?”

Keith nearly succumbs to sweet suffocation... until his hands drop and feel the silky brush of Shiro's pants.

“Shiro.” He pushes himself free from his favorite pillows to stare down at his husband's chosen attire. “You're not wearing those all day, are you?”

“Why not?” Shiro pouts, reaching down to pluck at the satin clinging obscenely to his thick thigh. “I think they're cute... and festive!”

“Oh they are,” Keith groans, mouth beginning to water involuntarily – a victim of Pavlov's dickprint as Shiro shifts and the fabric slides with him to outline every crease of his lower half. It's easily burning itself a place as one of his top five best mental images of Shiro wearing clothing, there's no way he's letting another human feast their eyes upon the glorious outline of The Beast. He reaches out to settle a hand on Shiro's hip, thumb pressing deliberately to the head of his cock as he meets Shiro's innocent gaze. “They're also painted onto your dick.”

“What?” Shiro sputters a laugh, looking down at himself in confusion, like he doesn't know grade A beef when he sees it. “They're not that bad... it's like fancy sweatpants!”

“Shiro.” Keith's voice straddles the line between exasperated and husky as he lets his fingers trace every line, curve, and vein on sight alone – smirking when he can see Shiro start to stir in interest. “I could draw your dick like a french girl without you ever taking these off, and I'm not keen on sharing.”

“ _Oh,_ ” Shiro squeaks out, ears turning crimson as Keith grins devilishly up at him. “I guess I should go change then?”

Long, clever fingers skim upward, splaying out until they can hook into the tip of the red satin waistband and tug.

“Now, now...” Keith drawls, lower lip captured between his teeth as he aims a devastating look up through his lashes. “They look awfully tight... don't you think you need a little help taking them off?”

The bar stool nearly goes tumbling in their haste – their clothes following shortly after.

When their friends arrive an hour and a half later Keith is there to greet them, sweater immaculate and hair rumpled. Shiro stumbles out of the hall thirty seconds later, clad in snow-flake patterned thermal longjohns and a smattering of love bites, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. Keith sighs, smile indulgent as he wraps an arm around Shiro's waist. He can't complain, an effort was made, but there's no disguising the impressive bulge... at least they can't see the details.


End file.
